under a sunken sky
by a-isforalison
Summary: You cry through another sleepover, her fingers intertwined with yours. /or/ Your heart beats against your wrists, her limbs entangled in yours. This is heaven. This is hell. [rilaya] R&R
1. sleep the night away—or cry 'til dawn

Your heart beats against your wrists and your head spins around in circles. You have no idea what time it is or how long these silent tears have been streaking down pale flesh but the sun is sunken in the sky and the moon is hanging over both of you.

The brunette's limbs are ever so gently entangled with yours and her fingers are intertwined with yours, her tiny hands pressed against your chest. You worry she can feel your heart racing.

She shifts in your bed, one hand pulling out of the warmth of yours (cold rushes into the empty space) and its fingers wrapping themselves around your sprawled out blonde locks. Your breath hitches. Some sliver of hope stirs inside you, _could it be that she feels the same way? _

_. . . No._

She's straight. You've seen the way her eyes melt and her world stops when she looks at Lucas. And you feel the heartache grip your racing heart once more, your eyes burning at the truth. She will never look at you with all that glimmering hope and burning admiration, she will never hold your hand the way she would his, she will never hug you with her arms wrapped gently around the back of your neck, she will never brush her lips against yours with baited breath and a still heart.

Riley Matthews will never love you like that.

But you will always love her like that.

She snuggles into your body and you smile softly, agonized. You love her.

* * *

><p>reviews are love. give maya some.<p> 


	2. powder crowns crumble

**A/N: So, by popular demand, I guess I'll be making this a two-shot. Or a full on story? You guys decide in the reviews, I guess.**

You've been lying still and allowing her to shift the ways she's entangled with you for hours. The sun has risen and light, warm pastels are painted in streaks she would sigh over. It's beautiful, just like her, but you don't care for it. Her hands are back in yours and her body is pressed against yours and your heart is hurting from how close you are but how far she is.

You let a wistful sigh out of two, gently parted lips. She's smiling in her sleep again. You want to believe she might be dreaming of you but you know she's dreaming of that hick, Lucas.

That golf ball rises in your throat with bile and butterflies alike squirming their way up.

She nuzzles her head into you, sighing softly. You can't breathe. There is no air, their is only you and Riley, just lying on your bed in the awakening city.

You think you like the world better this way. Just you and her. Like she asked you for all that time ago, sitting against the cold, lifeless lockers.

Your alarm clock ruins it like you ruin everything.

It's not the usual hardened beeping that you groan at though, you made it special today, just for her. It's the chorus of a song that makes her smile and laugh and dance in ways that all but force you to do the same.

She giggles slightly, the sound muffled by your hair. You can feel the vibrations of her humming the song as she dragoons her eyes open, rubbing at them, groggily.

"Morning, Maya," she murmurs, sitting up. Your heart sinks at the cold that embraces you.

"Good morning, Riles," you yawn at her, feigning like the alarm awoke you too.

"Do you wanna run to that one doughnut place for breakfast?" She asks you, stretching her limbs.

"The one with the crazy hobo in front of it?" You say, cracking your neck.

"Yeah, that one," she nods, happily. Her hair needs to be brushed out, she's wearing pajamas, she hasn't brushed her teeth yet, and she isn't even wearing lip gloss but you've never seen someone more stunning than in that moment she smiles at you. You remind yourself that she's straight and she's just asking you if you want to go get doughnuts but the longing lingers.

"Let's get dressed and less gross first," you laugh a little at her enthusiasm.

"Okay!" She grins, rushing to your bathroom and grabbing a loose dress, leggings, and a jacket of yours. You figure the jacket smells like her favorite perfume by now and that stings a little because you know she wants to wear a jacket that smells like his cologne.

You follow after her, not bothering to grab a change of clothes yet.

When you arrive, she's furiously brushing her teeth in the cutest way. You stop to laugh at her for a bit, even though she makes your heart yearn for her just standing there. _Why does she have to make the stupidest things so cute?_ You wonder, still smiling at her.

She beckons for you to come to her and brush your teeth with her. You just can't say no to those eyes.

* * *

><p>You get to the doughnut shop in a giggling mess, with arms wrapped around each other. She's addicting and you're getting high off her voice without realizing it.<p>

_This isn't right. She has feelings for Lucas, you need to stop this._

But your conscious or whatever is drowned out by the gravitational pull that is Riley Matthews. Her smile burns brighter than the sun itself (which is still hanging over them with the pretty pastels) and you just want to kiss those lips forever.

You know it's delusional. You know it will never happen. You know that she's straight.

But a girl can dream. And dream you will.

"Me, oh, Maya, we should go skiing this year," she giggles, your dream crumbling with her voice. You realize she's drooling over the powdered doughnuts and that's the only reason she's talking about skiing and calling you "Me, oh, Maya." She hates skiing after what happened last time.

"Uhuh," you tell her, rolling your eyes, playfully. "We'll take two powdered doughnuts and two of the pink sprinkled ones. Oh, and two sodas—medium," you order, smiling softly at your best friend's insanity. "On me," you add.

"Maya, you don't have to—" she interjects, but you cut her off with your eyes. She nods, understanding.

You do have to.

You owe her for feeling this way, for getting in the way of her and Lucas, for hating him just because she likes him. But all she gets out of your eyes is that you're best friends and this is what best friends do.

The cashier looks at you and her funny as he counts out your change. You're not sure what to call that look but Riley is off to get you both fountain sodas as soon as he hands her the cups.

"You two are a cute couple," he compliments, smiling at you.

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you aren't sure what to say to that—should you correct him? It takes you a second to register that you said, "thanks" and took your doughnuts before rushing off to a table.

Is that your heart beating against your throat?

_Probably._

She smiles widely, maneuvering to you and balancing the sodas. You can't help but think of an angel without her halo. A princess without her crown.

"Hurry up, Riley," you bark at her, teasingly.

"I'm coming," she whines, her pace quickening. She has the cutest pout replacing her smile now and it makes your world halt for a second. The same way Lucas makes hers stop.

That aching is back in your heart as you bite into a powdered doughnut. Oh, how you wish she was yours.

* * *

><p>reviews are love. give maya some.<p> 


	3. drapetomania

**A/N: Okay, so, full blown story time? Also, new Tumblr account specifically for stories and just shipping things in general. My account is called _takeadvantageofanopportunity_ and my shipping blog is called _We Can Still Be Friends (wecanstillbefriends dot tumblr dot com)_, I made a story devoted blog called _a-isforalison, bitches (thestoriestshit dot tumblr dot com) _too.**

The air is cold as you two walk back from the doughnut shop. She gleefully laughs that beautiful laugh and something new comes over you.

You don't want to walk home, you don't want to go home. You've never been excited about returning home and you wouldn't ever say you look forward to it, but not trying to be that way wanting to at all is new.

Her fingers delicately intertwine with yours as entangled branches on a tree. Your hands, you know, are colder than your heart but hers radiate heat and she grips tightly, to cling to you.

The wildest part of you, untrimmed and unphased by the fear and doubt that coils around the rest of you, wants to hold onto her forever, and just run. Run away, run anywhere, as long as you're with her.

She's set a fire in your soul with just her laughter.

You wish you could stamp it out.

* * *

><p>She asks you if you want to go to a high school party Lucas invited her to. You almost break your pen. Why is she asking you this during history? Why did Lucas invite her? Something must be up. That cowboy must be up to something.<p>

"Only if there's beer," you joke.

"Lucas said there would be," Riley thinks you're serious. You freeze inside, that can't be good. Lucas would only mention beer and want to bring Riley, _your_ innocent Riley, to a party with one if he was going to try something.

"Riles, we aren't going to that party," you tell her.

"What? Why not?" The brunette asks, confusion clear in those stunning eyes.

"It's not a good idea, okay?" You know you can't explain why not to her. She'll want to go even more then.

"Maya, just because you don't wanna go doesn't mean—"

"I'm serious, Riley. It just isn't a good idea," you cut her short, "we're not going."

"You mean _you _aren't going. This is _my_ world and if I want to go to a party with a cute boy, I will," she says. Mr. Matthews re-enters the room before you can protest.

You have no choice, you have to go with her. To protect your girl.

You tell her you'll go and she wraps her arms around you from her desk. She kills you sometimes.

* * *

><p>The party is in full blast when you two get there. The music is deafening and everyone wreaks of sex, sweat, and beer.<p>

It makes you just a little sick to see Riley mixed up in this. It's even worse when she nervously uses her adult voice. Your insides twist and boil, your girl shouldn't be here. The two of you should be having some lame exersion into the world while she rambles about Ranger Rick.

Speaking of Ranger Rick, he breaks free of some drunken, slutty high school girl draped around him and makes his way over to you.

"Hey, Riley, I'm glad you could make it," he says, flashing that charming smile.

"Hey, Lucas," Riley giggles, nervously twirling her hair.

"And I'm here too," you assert, wrapping a protective arm around the doe eyed girl.

"Maya," he nods.

"Sundance," you nod back. You pray to God he understands that he is not to try anything on your best friend. Instead of reassuring you that he won't touch her (you know she'd let him, she fucking loves him as she tells you all the time), he cracks a grin with a pleasant chuckle.

What the fuck does that mean? Is he laughing at how protective of her you are? Does he not realize that she needs ypu to protect her? She's so fragile and naive, just handing out love to everyone. Even someone like you.

You don't get to ask him though, he's taking Riley's hand (no, no, fuck no, this isn't happening) and inviting her to dance before you can do anything.

Your heart shatters in your chest as she giggles and smiles at you. You force a smile and give her a thumbs up.

"I can't be here," you mutter. It hurts too much to be here, watching them dance so fucking perfectly. The guilt of being in love with her is tearing up your insides, you let that cashier think you two were a couple, you hold her close, you pretend you don't love her. It's fucking killing you to be this selfish.

They look so perfect, so happy. Riley's got that beautiful, beautiful smile lit up on her face and he has this soft, charming smile. They go together so perfectly. You fucking hate it.

You can't stand it, you need to hold your girl close, become wrapped up in those hypnotic eyes and play footsie with her, your fingers intertwined. She's yours, not that hillbilly's. Damn it, you want her even though you _know_ it's not right.

"Babe, chillax and have a drink," some stranger smirks, handing you a red cup. You know what's in it but you drain it anyways. It burns your throat going down, like acid. You fucking love the feeling. "So, your hot friend is dancing with Lucas, huh? Don't be jealous, gorgeous, I know he's pretty good lookin' but he's just a kid, woman like you needs a man."

You give him a look over, he's definitely a player.

"Aw, come on, gorgeous, don't be so cold. You can't have that much of a thing for the cowboy," he says, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"It's not Ranger Rick I care about," you scoff.

"Ohoh, so blondie's got a thing for the girl?" You want to rip his stupid, cocky face off, you want to grab Riley's hand and run the fuck away, you want out and away from this sleaze. How _dare_ he say that! You don't need some fucking creep outing you at a shitty party after giving you beer.

"I don't have a thing for her, creep. She's my best friend and if he has the balls to try anything, I'm going to rip his balls off," you snarl.

"Damn, you're feisty. How 'bout another drink, honey?" He smirks, grabbing another cup.

"Fine," you mutter, snatching it from his hands. Just to distract you from Mr. Perfect seducing your girl.

"So, what's your name anyways?" He asks, "or do you just wanna hook up in the closet with no strings attached?"

"I'm not a skank and I'm not telling you my name," you hiss at him, narrowing your eyes and draining the cup. Is it just you or is the world spinning a bit?

He raises his eyebrows and slinks off to find a new target. Good, the prick is leaving you be. You focus your eyes on Riley again—fuck, she's beautiful. She looks content with Lucas and his hands haven't sunk too low—yet.

Something stirs in the pit of your stomach, you don't want to be here anymore. They look _too_ happy and she's laughing again—oh, God, why is she so beautiful? The fire is ignited again, blazing and twisting, its flames licking at your insides. It burns and hurts like a bitch but you can feel the alcohol numbing you a bit, this is a high like no other.

You want to run away with her. You wish you could propose the idea to her—_Riles, let's run away and be free_—but you're supposed to be straight so you force your pretty little mouth shut.

Lips sealed, fingers crossed.

Your hands are ice cold again, but your heart is electric. She laughs again and pushes past drunken fools to you, sending a smile back at Ranger Rick. She reaches you, giddy and beautiful, with that perfect smile etched across her lips.

"_Maya,_" she singsongs, "that was so much fun!"

"Looked like it," you smirk at her. She erupts in a fit of giggles, wrapping her arms around you. The world spins again and you trip backwards a bit. Is she drunk? Are you drunk? Fuck. When did she even have anything to drink?

But you already know the answer: while you weren't paying attention.

"Let's, let's get out of here," you tell her, grabbing her hand.

"Okay," she smiles, following after you.

You need to get away. You need to pretend everything is okay and that these feelings are normal. You need to run the fuck away for just a night.

* * *

><p>The wind slaps into your face, adrenaline rushing throughout your veins. The night is alive with your giddy laughter and her drunken giggles. Your fingers are wrapped around each other, your hands locked together.<p>

This is perfection, running around like crazy kids together, running away to God knows where, your hands intertwined. Never have you felt so wonderfully alive, so electrically foudroyant. You don't have to whelve your feelings for her right now and nothing could make you happier. She laughs, her eyes lighting up, as rain begins to pour down on you. She is beauty, she is perfection, she is Riley Matthews.

And you're so fucking in love with her.

* * *

><p><em>reviews are love. give maya some.<em>

_EDIT: Also, visit** thestoriestshit dot tumblr dot com /post/ 104602908962/ life-management-rilaya-potential-story** and reply on if you like the story idea or not, anything you'd like to see in the story if you want it, etc._


	4. our little infinities

You aren't stupid. You know Riley isn't perfect, you know that this moment isn't anywhere nearly as infinite as it feels and that this feeling will feel like it never existed by the time your head hits your pillow. But your fingers are laced with hers and the rain pours down and your head is spinning from the liquor you downed and fucking _God_ do you love this moment.

It's imperfect and you know it's finite but the helpless moping in your eyes that screams "save me" is gone because she's doing exactly that.

"I'm so drunk right now," you giggle, spinning around like it's ballet.

"Bad Maya," Riley doubles over, her hand on her stomach. Something inside you shivers at the mental images of her saying that, hovering over you, hair in her face, pinning you to a bed.

"Only for you," you joke, your words slurring.

She giggles and drunkenly hugs you, stooping down and stumbling. Her hair drapes over you and your heart skips about fifteen consecutive beats. You wrap your arms around her and whisper into her hair, "babe, you're choking me." You feel her smile into your shoulder and she pulls back a bit.

The alcohol is clear in her eyes as she giggles again and says, "I like it when you call me babe."

You smirk and say it again. Her eyes melt and she rests her head on your shoulder. The rain is soaking you both and your hair is sticking to your flesh but so is she. Something about it is magical, like it's just the two of you even though people march on by with spared looks of disgust, confusion, and amusement. She looks so beautiful that all you care to see is her though. "I love you, babe," you murmur.

"I wuv you too, Maya papaya," she slurs, pulling away and nuzzling her nose against yours. Heat spreads to your face, shivers rushing through your chest and stomach. Her lips look so fucking perfect and her face is glowing, you want to just kiss her then and there. You're both so drunk, maybe she'd pass it off as nothing . . .

Someone bumps into you. It's the perfect excuse and then your lips are against hers.

"Whoa," a familiar voice says.

You pull away from her, "I know."

"Farkle?" Riley blinks, not giving you a second look. Farkle! Your brain goes on fucking red alert, Farkle just saw you kiss your best friend. Farkle isn't drunk. Farkle fucking knows now.

"Ladies," he says, the usual flirty tone only subtly there with the shock and something that sounds suspiciously like joy.

"Go the fuck away, Farkle," you hiss, turning to glare at him.

"Whoa, you're feisty tonight, Maya," he grins enthusiastically.

"I'm not kidding," you growl, "_leave._"

"Heh, want me to leave you to make out with Riley?" He jokes, nodding at her.

"Wha?" Riley asks, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Is she drunk?" He asks, concern in his eyes.

"Just go away, Farkle," you groan, "I'm walking her home."

"How did she get drunk, Maya? Are you drunk too?" He isn't going away. You feel your insides sickening and sloshing but he's still fucking here.

"_Minkus, _I'm handling it!" You exclaim.

"Okay, okay, just make sure she's safe, okay?" There's a determination in his eyes that makes you want to punch him. Of course you'll make sure she's fine, she's your girl. No one is going to touch her, no one is going to hurt her. Not on your watch.

* * *

><p>You take her to your house and call Cory and Topanga, tell them Riles wanted to have a sleepover. They say okay and you get her a glass of ice cold water and sit her down on your bed. She giggles yet again and sips the water without question.<p>

"So, how was dancing with Ranger Rick?" You ask her, sitting next to her with your own glass of water.

"Fun," she chirps, "but not as fun as running around with you." Your heart speeds up, you know she doesn't mean to do this to you.

"Good," you tell her, smiling.

"That was our first party," she giggles, resting her head on your shoulder.

"I know, Smiley," you respond.

"It was _soo_ much fun," she laughs, "I'm glad you went with me."

"Of course, I'm your best friend," you note, laughing at your blurred vision. You're not nearly as drunk as her, thankfully. She's so wasted. You can't believe Lucas had the balls to let her drink, he better have been wasted or you'll kill him on Monday. That's a total lie though, you'll kill him no matter what for touching your girl.

"I know," she sighs, nuzzling her head into your shoulder. Blushing a little (and you can't tell if it's the booze or her), you put your head on hers.

"Love ya, kiddo," you tell her.

"I love you too," she giggles, "I love you soooooo much."

"How much?" You tease, not remembering she doesn't mean it like you want her to.

"This much!" She exclaims, throwing her arms out. She hits you in the boobs but you just laugh it off because she's so fucking drunk.

"Only that much?" You ask, disappointed but hiding it in the joke.

"_No,_" she whines, pouting, "I just can't reach my arms out enough."

"Really?" You ask. Your heart is hurting a little as it floats with all that false hope. She nods, or tries to. "Whoa." She giggles and you swear your heart is about to explode, this moment is so perfect and you love her so damn much. How could you ever express it to her? _By not taking advantage of her again and kissing her._ But that was an accident. Farkle bumped into you. You didn't mean to.

But you did.

You should've known that joy was finite.

* * *

><p><em>reviews are love. give maya some.<em>

_Also, visit** thestoriestshit dot tumblr dot com /post/ 104602908962/ life-management-rilaya-potential-story** and reply on if you like the story idea or not, anything you'd like to see in the story if you want it, etc._


End file.
